


Metanoia

by napoj



Category: No Fandom
Genre: LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mental, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Original Character(s), Psychological, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, pessimism, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28239246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napoj/pseuds/napoj
Summary: "I'd do anything and everything for you.""Please don't."





	1. Chapter 1

Intro: Open The Umbrella 

___

Delaney deeply inhaled the fresh air. It was always a different smell, a different experience when it rained. It gave a feeling of a new wakening; somehow a new beginning. Maybe as if the rain washed away the mistakes and the misfortune; maybe as if the clouds simply cried along with the people that realized the issues humanity has made itself put up with. 

The tall man, enjoyed walking in the rain more than anything. The landing rain drops hitting either his umbrella or straight on his head; wetting his hair and lashes letting them move furthermore down his face, body and clothes. His skin feeling natures acceptance toward her million mistakes; her errors. Humans were never nothing more than children. No one ever matured, no one got old. 

His steps splattered the water around the pavement. It didn't matter if his shoes got wet; it didn't matter if his clothes got wet; nothing mattered. As rain fell, people ran from it. Exactly thinking that it matters - if they got wet. The dampness of the overdone materials they wore didn't actually matter. It didn't actually give them a feeling of discomfort. They simply got used to knowing that it would make them feel weird or bad - which obviously wasn't the direct truth. Because they were too childish to see what was actual. They were too childish to let go of their beliefs and open their minds; let their bodies connect with their creator. 

He walked slowly. Not going anywhere in particular; solely walking in the rain. Not to be misunderstood, he did have an umbrella. Just that he never used it. He received it from a polite elder man that sold goodies in the park which was his usual walking spot. That day was a literal storm and Delaney, no matter the weather, in fact precisely because of the weather, decided to go for a walk. As he walked through the park, the man, with strong pity on his face, reached the umbrella towards the younger. They didn't talk or see each other again since then, yet Delaney always carried the item whenever it rained; though he hasn't opened it since so.

He also always walked through the same old park. It truly was an old park, even aging over a hundred years. The trees tall and thick, the path dated and stomped. It looked more pure than human made. 

Every raindrop was a unique reflection of the world; a new look to it. You might even compare it to how humans are, as they all look differently at the world. Though the difference between these two similarities is that raindrops are specifically how they are. Even if they get molded and mended into a different shape, they will always show their own picture of the world, unlike people who are horribly easy to manipulate and play with. Humans are adaptable to anything new, without understanding how much the new changes them. In fact, this might have been a stupid example since raindrops don't have a mindset or a mentality of their own unlike humans. The point of it though was to show the easiness of the human mind. No matter how advanced, humans aren't superior. Or so Delaney thought. Issue being; Delaney is also human. He couldn't be different no matter what he did, thought or believed. He was just as hopeless as everyone else.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick, open the umbrella." a voice rang, making Delaney turn around. He noticed a young man standing two feet behind him, an opened pink umbrella held in his right hand and rested on his shoulder lightly. He had a warm smile in his face, weirdly enough it managed to change the temperature around Delaney, no matter the fact he stood in the cold rain. 

"I'll be fine. I've never gotten sick from the rain. It makes me happy." Delaney replied, his voice quavering; the cold wasn't treating him nice and the strangers presence made his body react oddly. 

The man shook his head, a smile still present, "Open it for me then. Let's walk together, I don't like mine." 

The pink umbrella suddenly hit the ground, creating a small splash in puddles of rain. It's owner not looking down at it; practically almost forgetting about it as he quickly stomped towards Delaney. They stood face to face, Delaney being an inch or two taller.

"Please open the umbrella." he whispered. His by far dry hair and skin, slowly getting wet; his eyes squinting as rain hit his face.

Delaney didn't hesitate. He kept on looking into the strangers warm brown eyes as his hands did the work of opening the umbrella. He held it above the pair. It felt awkward for him to see the rain yet not to feel it, but looking at how the strangers smile widened, he decided to dismiss it.

"I am Simon Moore. Nice to meet you."


	2. Act: One

"It takes time, you know." Delaney let out, looking up instead at his interlocutor. They sat on a bench under one of the biggest trees of the park, the umbrella above their heads, "It definitely takes time to understand you're alive."

Simon chuckled, "I see what you're saying. But," he blinked towards Delaney. His presence still radiating warmth, making Delaney unknowingly scootch closer the man whose voice continued, "It's not all about being strictly conscious about what you're doing. It tends to happen that when you're not thinking about what to do, you actually react best."

It was still raining strongly. The clouds gray, yet welcoming. Welcoming of any idea or wish the men had; it practically gave them a blank canvas to work on. It wasn't pushing the blue onto them. It allowed them to imagine it as any other color they wished. Delaney didn't respond to Simon’s words. He kept on looking at the sky; imagining it as if the colors changed by the second.

„You seem quite unique to me Delaney, if I may comment." Simon said, eyes poking at Delaney’s presence. He could sense Simon’s eyes as if they were dragging themselves like legless rodents, biting into his skin for safety and security, their large, sharp teeth ripping him open for Simon to see. It felt like a huge burden, dragging his existence to constant worry and wonder; it made him overly conscious. 

"Of course." Delaney lead his eyes to Simon, "Personally, you must comment." He rewrapped his hand over the handle of the umbrella, he noticed his fingers felt slightly more numb; the colors changing like the sky. In this cold weather, he didn't understand how they were sweating, "Speaking your mind is more important than existing. Do you even exist if you don't speak your mind?"

Simon spread his lips, feeling the dryness of the sensitive skin crack and allowing new air into his body, his smile visible from miles away, "I see."

After silence of their tongues and the glitz of rain, Delaney turned to Simon, "Why are you here though? Who are you exactly?"

Simon never took the smile off his face; his eyes crinkled the smallest bit. He nodded slowly, "I'm Simon Moore. I am here to be your comfort, your communicator, your company and lastly; your friend."

Delaney plainly controlled his thoughts, scanning Simon’s face. The smile felt odd. It was as if it was planted on and not created by the use of muscles. It was as if it wasn't real, but it wasn't fake either. Delaney then realized that ever since Simon sat down he hasn't removed that smile off his face and that solemnly made it look unrealistic. What's the use of smiling? What did Simon gain by that? What did he gain by being Delaney’s friend or any of the terms the man used?

Human life is pure gain. As soon as more is taken from you that you take, it goes downwards. So what was Simon Moore’s gain? Some absurd satisfaction?

It takes time. It takes time to realize.


	3. Act: Two

The food tastes bland. Was it always like this? 

Delaney took a spoonful of his soup. As he aggressively pulled the spoon upwards, almost half of the soup poured out, back into the bowl. His eyes stayed fixated on the path of the woods veins on the table, unable to focus on the tasteless food. His eyes felt like little marbles as they moved through carvings on wood. They moved quickly, rapidly, going back and forth; trying to take every detail in, but what's the point. What's the point of remembering certain impressions and representations? We're all going to die anyway. Why remember? What is the point?

He picked up another spoon. He tried to pay more attention to it not spilling. However, as soon as he felt accomplished with how far we came with the spoon, his arm jolted. The warm liquid splattering onto the table. The veins now filled with the food. It felt as if all of his hard work flew down the drain.

"How's the food, Delaney?" Simon sat down. His appearance was deluxe per usual; he looked godlike. His never-ending smile always plastered. 

Delaney dropped the spoon into the bowl, creating the smallest splash. He turned slowly to Simon who was sitting right next to him, "It's fine."

Simon smiled warmer. Was it real?

"I'm incredibly glad you're enjoying it." He placed his elbow on the surface of the wooden table, where it didn't get dirty, and rested his head in his seemingly soft hands. Everything about him looked so profound. Almost to the point Delaney felt like the man was created and not human "Do you feel like talking?"

Delaney looked back at the soup. He blinked, "Sure."

"Go on." Simon uttered silkily, "Tell me what's on your mind."

Delaney snickered quietly, licking his lips to prepare himself. Why did talking take so much energy? Why do his words have to go out in order for people to listen? 

Time flowed slowly for him, he never rushed – there was no point to rush. Per contra, there was no point to go slowly either. 

"I've never traveled." He said. Blankly. 

"Is it your wish to travel then?" 

"No."

Delaney stared at the soup. It was getting cold. The mush of ingredient hade his head hurt. 

"Traveling is too much trouble. I'd never do it." He continued, half-aware of his own words. The food made him numb. The idea of having to recharge every single day was burdensome. Sleep and meals took away his chances to create. To create himself and his thoughts.

His whole life, he's heard many times that it's bad when a battery is overcharged; that it makes it weaker and lowers its quality every time it's overcharged. 

Why did he feel like he overcharged every day then? He was full after two bites of food. Why does he have to eat more then? Why was it necessary for him to overcharge if he was taught that that occurrence is bad, damaging. Is it illogical; he's human and that's a battery so no need to compare to begin with. What if that's not the case though?

"Delaney ?" Simon’s melodic voice suddenly rang, "You doze off there for a second." Delaney swallowed thickly, "Please, do tell me more about your opinion on traveling."

Delaney dragged his gaze back on Simon. He stared deeply into his eyes, trying to find something human in them. He was too perfect to be human. Why couldn't he look as good? Or behave and talk as good? What went wrong with him?

Why does he always question everything? Can't he think without questioning?

"I think that physical traveling is too much trouble. It's expensive and gets you tired quickly." Delaney slowly let out, his features barely moving as he stared at Simon’s reaction, waiting for it.

When he was younger, people gave him reactions on everything he said or did. He didn't mean to scare them off or to make them disgusted, yet everyone around him always had a firm opinion on him likewise. He was born a freak. He overthought and questioned too much. People never thought twice when they pushed him away, when he thought for two weeks straight whether he should approach them or not. It was soul crushing. 

"You can travel with your mind. Go to all the places you ever dreamed of with your mental strength." He didn't move his expression.

Neither did Simon.

"If you free yourself enough, you can go anywhere you want." Delaney went silent afterwards. Careful not to blink too often.

Simon nodded, "So you dream of going to places rather than goi-"

"No." Delaney stated firmly, back suddenly straightened, "I go to places in my mind. I remember everything perfectly. Vividly."

Simon firmed his smile again, "Where did you go for example? I'd love to understand it better."

Weird.

People never want him to explain himself better. People never listen to him. He doubtlessly shouldn't say anything. He's not going to believe him nevertheless. He's going to make fun of him. Stay quiet.

"You should just try it yourself. You'd know then. " Delaney whispered.

He felt stiff. Uncomfortable. He shouldn't have talked.

Suddenly, he felt a delicate hand land softly on his own. Simon moved a little closed, "It's alright. I'm sure you'll show me around once when we travel like that, hm?"

It felt warm. Comfort felt warm. It was something he never felt before. His whole body suddenly heated up.

"Yes. I will."


End file.
